


One in a Million

by magisterpavus



Series: Voltron NSFW Week [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Sex, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Choking, Dirty Talk, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Possessive Keith (Voltron), Riding, Sex Club, Threesome - M/M/M, Vibrators, close enough, i mean....there's no tag for 'shiro's vibrator arm' sO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-19 17:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11902332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterpavus/pseuds/magisterpavus
Summary: One might think that after spending six years serving as a Galaxy Garrison senior officer, leading dozens of dangerous missions into enemy territory, personally overseeing the deaths of Zarkon’s highest generals, and getting his arm blown off only to be replaced by a weaponized prosthetic against his will, Shiro would be prepared for anything the Universe threw at him.He was not prepared for Keith and Lance.(DAY 1: POLY/MULTIPLE PEOPLE)





	One in a Million

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK, BITCHES, THIS TIME WITH ALIEN SMUT & SHIRO SANDWICHES BC ??? WHAT COULD BE BETTER RIGHT
> 
> support me on tumblr [@saltyshiro](http://saltyshiro.tumblr.com/)

Shiro had a problem.

Well, to be fair, Shiro had a lot of problems, but this one, at least, was solvable. Probably. Hopefully. It was also the most pleasant problem to deal with – or it should have been, yet he felt nauseous with nervousness just looking at the brightly glowing lights covering the long, low building in front of him. It wasn’t nervousness, exactly, he reasoned. More like…dread.

Shiro shook his head at his own absurdity, prompting a strange look from a passing alien who vaguely resembled a giant yellow spider. He had commandeered stealth missions into the heart of enemy territory, defeated some of Zarkon’s most powerful soldiers in single combat, and literally had a weapon attached to his body at all times. He should not be anxious about _this_.

He knew that Garrison soldiers frequented establishments like this one, though he’d never done so himself. He wasn’t one to judge, but it had always seemed that there were far more pressing matters at hand. He barely had time to sleep, much less sleep with others. He was a Galaxy Garrison senior officer, and he had responsibilities, and schedules to abide by, and soldiers to command, and…

At least, he had been. He had been, before the crash he’d lost his arm in, before they’d attached that damn weaponized prosthetic without his say-so, before they’d told him he would just be an even more efficient fighter now as soon as he woke up and realized what they’d done.

He had been, until he hadn’t.

Shiro had left the Garrison a month ago and never looked back. He had a decent pension set aside and a small personal ship that the Garrison couldn’t take from him, so it could be worse. But he also had more time than he knew what to do with, and…it had been easy to ignore how fucked up he was when he had a war to distract himself with. But there were no distractions now.

None, except for maybe this place. Yes, a distraction – it was easier to walk through the wide-open doors when he thought of it that way. He’d been lost in a haze of numb nihilism these past several weeks – these past several years, if he was being honest – a night out would do him good.

Shiro stopped abruptly as his brain processed what it was seeing. Very slowly. Because. He hadn’t really seen anything like it before, and wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted to. An orgy was one thing. This wasn’t even…this was a whole new level of depravity. Inhuman depravity.

He reached out to steady himself on the wall only for a chameleon alien to peel itself away from the wall where his hand had fallen and wiggle its long tongue at him in a way he assumed was meant to be suggestive. Shiro snatched his hand away and the alien hissed, single eye narrowing, before stalking off to join some…yeah, no, Shiro wasn’t looking at that.

“Hello,” a strange, sibilant voice said from near the floor. Shiro looked down warily. An alien with beautiful iridescent green scales and a long, legless, snakelike body peered up at him with large violet eyes. It was holding a book of some sort in its long, thin arms, which it lifted up to him as it lifted its body like a cobra about to strike. “You are human, yesss?”

“Yes,” Shiro replied, relaxing minutely. The alien seemed bored and mildly annoyed, and if he had to guess he’d say they were an employee. “And you are…?”

“A Sssyssstrean,” the alien replied in the same flat tone. “From Planet Ssssyssstrea. You may call me Sssss.”

“Nice to meet you,” Shiro said.

S tilted their head. “You are new here, yesss? Firssst time?” Shiro nodded. “Well, I asssume you’re not here for the drinksss, ssso, if you would tell me your preferencccesss, I can asssissst in finding the right ssservicccce for you.”

“Uh,” Shiro said eloquently. “Preferences…as in gender, or –”

S rolled their eyes, which was horrifying because Systreans apparently had several eyelids. They opened the book and showed it to him – it was actually some kind of electronic tablet, with cryptic symbols that rearranged into English as he stared at it. “Humansss, ssso sssimple. Gender, sssex, ssspeciesss, age, general appearanccce, kinksss, typesss of genitalia, posssition, number of partnersss, et cccetera, the lissst goesss on.”

The list did go on. For several more pages. He didn’t bother reading them; he felt light-headed enough as it was. Shiro looked back at S. “I don’t…suppose you have any recommendations for me?”

S gave him a disdainful once-over. “Human malesss tend to be easssily pleasssed.”

Shiro frowned, although he could see where S was coming from. “If I were ‘easily pleased,’ do you think I would be here?”

“Lisssten,” S said, clearly irritated now, “if you give me nothing to work with, I cannot asssissst you.”

He sighed. “Can I just…get a drink or something?”

“Or sssomething,” S muttered, but pointed one of their spindly fingers at a long bar lined with neon green lights. It was located all the way across the very crowded room, because of course it was. Shiro steeled himself and was about to leave when S added, “Perhapsss you will get lucky and sssomeone will approach you. Asss human malesss go, you are ssstriking enough.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said dryly. “Really appreciate it.”

“You are welcome,” S said, completely missing the sarcasm, which was for the best. “I _can_ recommend a drink to you. The Arusssian Sssunssset is deliciousss.”

“Maybe you should be a bartender instead,” Shiro retorted, and started off towards the bar before S could roll their eyes again, or worse.

Shiro tried his best not to touch anyone on his way to the bar, but it was playing a giant game of Operation, except instead of plastic body parts, they were very, very real ones. Some appendages he didn’t even want to guess at – this place was an example of biodiversity at its finest, if its finest was defined as having sex in every way possible with every creature possible. Which Shiro was pretty sure it wasn’t. He somehow managed to reach the bar without feeling totally violated or accidentally violating anyone else (he was pretty sure that had been an arm he’d brushed against. Oh god, please let it be an arm).

The bartender who greeted him was curvy and blue-skinned, and might have been appealing if not for her (?) head, which was covered in three-inch long spikes like a pufferfish. Shiro smiled at her politely, though, even when she leaned all up on the counter and batted her (equally spiky) lashes at him. “What can we getcha?” she asked, her voice bubbly and warped as if coming from underwater.

“What’s in the Arusian Sunset?” Shiro asked.

The bartender nodded wisely. “Samantha recommended that to you, huh?”

“Their name is _Samantha?_ ”

“Short for Samantharanaranaji, yeah. Anyway, Arusian Sunset is popular, not super strong but does the job, kinda sweet but burns on the way down. If you’re into that.” She raised her spiny eyebrows.

God, the sooner he was out of this place, the better. He didn’t know why he’d ever thought this was a good idea in the first place. Maybe some of his despair showed on his face because the bartender said, “Y’know, you look like you could use something stronger.”

“Probably,” Shiro sighed, rubbing his temple. “Don’t suppose you’ve got anything from Earth?”

“Oh, ‘course, why didn’t you say so? You want a whiskey?”

“Please,” Shiro said fervently. She winked at him and went to fetch it. He sighed and peered down at his reflection in the shining countertop in the meantime, furrowing his brow at himself. He looked exhausted even in the dim lighting, his white forelock standing out unnaturally against his darker hair and skin. He ran his fingers through it and frowned deeper. A result of the accident, not a bad dye job, though he vowed to dye it black and get a haircut as soon as he came across a space barber who didn’t look like they were more likely to behead him than give him a trim.

There was nothing to be done about the scar across the bridge of his nose, though. He had scars all over his body, but he’d been lucky to avoid getting any on his face, up until now. It could be worse. He could’ve lost the nose, or an eye, or both arms, or been paralyzed, or –

“Here.” The bartender slid him the glass, her expression concerned under all those spikes. “No offense, but this doesn’t seem like the kind of crowd you’re used to.”

“No,” Shiro agreed. “It isn’t.” He took a drink and shivered – it had been a long time since he’d had anything from Earth.

She leaned back against the opposite counter. “Let me guess – you’re ex-military? Garrison pilot?”

“Yes,” Shiro said. “Fighter class. Did a lot of recon work too.” _Killed a lot of people,_ he didn’t say.

Her eyes widened. “Ooh. Impressive. We get a lot of Garrison folks around here, but they usually don’t hang around to chat.” She tilted her head. “You don’t look like most of ‘em, though. They give you that arm?”

Shiro’s metal fingers curled under the counter, and he took another long drink. “‘Gave’ isn’t really the right word,” he muttered. “But they attached it to my body, if that’s what you mean.”

“I see,” she said, frowning. “Is it military-grade, too?”

Shiro nodded. “It’s not activated now, though, don’t worry.”

“Don’t give me a demonstration,” she warned. “Security would kick you to the curb in three tics. Though you don’t seem like you want to be here in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t complain, no,” Shiro agreed. “This is good whiskey, though. How much?”

She opened her mouth to answer and was abruptly interrupted by a familiar hissing voice.

“The onesss in the Black Room wisssh to sssee thisss one,” Samantha said. Their tone was different – serious, and urgent. Shiro’s hand tightened around his glass. “Hisss drink isss on the houssse.”

The bartender looked at Shiro with wide eyes. “Oh,” she said shortly. “Of course. Nice meeting you.” She nodded politely and hurried off to the other side of the bar.

Shiro downed the rest of his whiskey. Samantha was waiting expectantly. “You mussst follow me, sssir.”

“Sir?” Shiro echoed incredulously. “Changed your tune from earlier, huh? Besides, I’m not following you anywhere; I’m finishing my drink and leaving. Now.”

Samantha folded their arms. “Pleassse, sssir. We both know why you came here tonight. It isss an honor to be chosssen by these patronsss, believe me.”

He folded his arms right back. “Chosen? Who are these patrons? And do I want to know what’s in ‘the Black Room?’”

Samantha sniffed. “The Black Room isss our mossst elegant and expensssive. No charge for you, of courssse, sssince you were chosssen.”

“You didn’t answer my other questions, Samantha.”

Samantha rolled their eyes again, unfortunately. “Do not fear. Thisss isss not sssome ssseedy underground essstablissshment, Takassshi Ssshirogane.”

He froze. “How the fuck do you know my name?”

They blinked at him. “Thessse particular patronsss look for people like you. They know. I am but a messssenger.”

“You still haven’t given me a single good reason to follow you.”

Samantha looked at him flatly. “They are a fantassstic lay by all accountsss. What other reassson do you need?” When he still hesitated, they sighed and added, “Thisss isss not a binding contract. Follow me, and sssee them for yourssselvesss, and if you ssstill wisssh to leave, you may leave.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. Samantha was hardly a threat, and they had a point – this place was a popular sex club, not an illegal prostitution ring. And it wasn’t as if he was unarmed if anything did happen. Besides…his curiosity was piqued. “Fine,” he ground out. “Lead the way.”

Samantha slithered away from the bar and towards the private rooms without further preamble. Shiro took a second to consider his poor life decisions, figured he didn’t have much else left to lose except maybe his other arm, and followed them around the corner and down a hall lit with hot pink wall sconces. The Black Room was, of course, the last room, at the very end of the hall. Samantha looked at him. “They are exssspecting you, sssir. I will be in the main room if you reject their proposssal, which I highly doubt.”

“Great,” Shiro muttered, eying the door with trepidation. “Thanks a lot.”

“One more thing,” Samantha said as he reached for the ornate silver door handle. “Do not get attached to them. They have never ssserved the sssame man twiccce.” And with that, Samantha left him in the hallway, scales rasping over the smooth floor until they were lost in the sound of pounding music and other kinds of pounding from beyond the wall.

Shiro hesitated a few more seconds, holding his breath to try to hear whatever was beyond that door. But it must have been soundproofed well, because there was nothing, not even when he pressed his ear to it. Hoping he wasn’t about to regret this deeply, Shiro exhaled and opened the door.

He stopped dead in the open doorway. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been a beautiful, naked Altean and an equally naked and beautiful Galra making out on a black velvet sofa in front of a massive black bed.

The door clicked shut behind him and the two paused, the Galra lifting his head from the Altean and fixing Shiro with a piercing yellow glare. The Altean sat up as soon as he saw their visitor, blue eyes bright and unmistakably delighted. Unlike the Galra, who looked like he was two seconds from slicing open Shiro’s jugular with his (very sharp) claws. Then again, that was a common resting facial expression for Galra, in his experience. Not that he’d had many good experiences with Galra.

“Wow,” the Altean said, grinning slyly. “Keith, I take back what I said last week. You have great taste. Great, great, great.”

Shiro looked at the Galra. Keith? He’d met a lot of Galra, albeit under far different circumstances, but none were named _Keith_. Keith lifted his chin higher, not breaking eye contact. “I know,” he said. “I’ve been tracking this one for a while.”

Shiro bristled. “Excuse me?!”

The Galra leaned back against the cushions insouciantly. Shiro resolutely kept his eyes on Keith’s face. “Takashi Shirogane, former Garrison fighter pilot and officer, led several major reconnaissance missions into Empire territory including Project SATURN, responsible for the death of Lieutenant Sendak and several less important Galran officers, critically injured in the Kerberos Mission crash and subsequent attacks, hospitalized in a comatose state during which the Garrison tested new weapons technology on you via the prosthetic they –”

“Stop,” Shiro snapped. “How – who the hell – why do you _know me_ –”

Keith tilted his head. “You are fascinating,” he said.

“Keith, knock it off,” the Altean said, elbowing him and peering at Shiro worriedly. “You’re freaking him out. See, look at him, he was a perfectly good candidate and now you’ve gone and freaked him out already. Don’t freak out,” he added to Shiro.

“Little late for that,” Shiro said. “Who are you two?”

“That’s Keith, I’m Lance,” the Altean said. “You’re Captain Shirogane.”

“Shiro,” Shiro corrected automatically. “It’s just Shiro.”

“How about ‘sir’?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow.

Shiro stared at him, then at Keith, brow furrowed. “What the fuck is this,” he said simply.

“What does it look like?” Keith asked, tilting his head. “You’re quite brilliant, according to your record – surely you know what we want from you.”

“Why me?” Shiro pressed. “Why did you track me, why did you choose me – I know you want to fuck, obviously, but there’s something else.”

“Why does there have to be something else?” Lance asked, batting his eyelashes. “We have a type and we go to great lengths to find men like you, that’s all. Sometimes Keith gets a little carried away, don’t mind him – we just _want_ you, Shiro.”

Shiro was still doubtful. But he was also not leaving. Lance had shifted so that his legs were no longer hiding much of anything, and it was hard not to look. Keith was still half-crouched over him, muscled thighs shielding his arousal from view, but his ears were pricked in interest and his nostrils were flared, scenting. “You want us, too,” Keith told him, low and steady, yellow gaze dropping purposefully to Shiro’s crotch. “Stop denying yourself easy pleasures, Shiro – stop worrying, just for tonight.”

Lance sat up fully, spine arching and eyes half-lidded. “We can make you forget,” he murmured. “Let us help you, Shiro. Let us make you feel good again.”

Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it. “Okay,” he said, quiet after a long beat of silence. “I…okay.”

Lance smiled brightly, and Keith’s eyes softened. “C’mere, then,” Lance said, crooking his finger. “Don’t be shy.”

“He’s allowed to be nervous,” Keith said. “We’re not all extroverted sex fiends like you.”

“No, some people are introverted sex fiends like you,” Lance shot back. Shiro didn’t know what to think of them. Their dynamic was…intriguing. Like rivals, but in the way best friends are sometimes rivals, and yet there was a deep fondness between them, too.

Keith’s clawed hand splayed almost protectively over Lance’s upper thigh as Shiro shed his jacket and shirt and approached slowly, watching as the sharp violet claws dug into the Altean’s smooth brown skin, Keith’s thumb stroking over one of the beautiful blue lines curling over Lance’s lithe body. They were lovers, then – but lovers who shared each other with strangers. Shiro couldn’t quite comprehend it. He wondered if their sharing had ever ended badly in the past. The guarded look on Keith’s face said it had. It said, _Tread lightly, he is mine, you are a guest here, nothing more._

Lance said, “If you’d like to keep your pants on, I’m always up for a challenge, but I think this might be easier if you’re naked, too.”

Shiro snorted, and unzipped his jeans, standing before them in too-tight briefs, feeling like a teenage virgin all over again. “Quiznak,” Lance said under his breath. “I fucking love you, Keith.”

Shiro’s face grew hot under their gazes, then even hotter when Keith’s hand slid from Lance’s thigh to under and between, and Lance’s face screwed up in pleasure. “You can fuck him,” Keith said to Shiro, the sharp twisting movement of his wrist leaving no room for uncertainty about what he was doing to Lance.

Then Lance spread his legs on the couch and Shiro could _see_ , and he almost inhaled his tongue because Keith was spreading him wide open, and Lance had…well, Shiro wasn’t overly familiar with Altean anatomy, but Lance was definitely made for this in a way human males were not. The room filled with wet squelching sounds as Keith curled his fingers inside Lance’s hole, and then…something was dripping over Keith’s hand, glowing blue globules, the air heavy with a thick, sweet smell.

Lance’s cock twitched, glowing just as bright – as Shiro came closer he saw it was average in size, but that was the only average thing about it. The underside was lined with raised, glowing bumps, brightest at the head, which was tapered to a near-point. It seemed…it seemed to be moving, too, curling like a tentacle just slightly, just enough to be weird. Weird, but hot. More globules of the blue liquid leaked from the tip and down the side, and Keith caught a couple with his finger before lifting them to his lips and licking each one off daintily. His tongue glowed with faint phosphorescence for a moment before he swallowed.

“He’s so wet, and so ready for you to fill him,” Keith continued, pulling his fingers out, shining stickiness webbing them and covering Lance’s inner thighs. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like for him to sit on your cock, hmm, Shiro?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said, voice rough, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs and tugging them down. He was barely half-hard, which seemed to surprise both of them – but Shiro wasn’t surprised. It had been a while. They’d have to truly make him forget if they wanted this to work, a task not easily accomplished. Shiro had tried. But there was always something, some unwanted memory that resurfaced and ruined the mood, always a thread of stress that seeped back into his mind and kept any sense of relief or release at arm’s length.

“I wanna,” Lance whined, making grabby hands at him, and Shiro went obediently enough, sitting on the couch in the space created between them as Keith moved back to the other side. Lance peered down at his cock in fascination and reached out, hesitating. “Can I touch?”

Shiro blinked, nodded. Somehow, the fact that he’d thought to ask was comforting. “It may take a while,” Shiro warned.

Lance let out a sympathetic coo. “You poor thing,” he said. “Something so pretty shouldn’t be wasted. We won’t waste it, don’t worry. No, we’ll make it last…” He ran a fingertip over the head, circling around it and watching it bob against Shiro’s taut stomach, filling out further. “Humans,” he said, shaking his head. “Been awhile since we had a human, I always forget how fleshy you are.”

“Fleshy?” Shiro repeated incredulously. That was a new one.

“It’s a good thing,” Lance insisted. “See, look at all this,” he cupped Shiro’s balls in his palm and Shiro’s hips jerked, startled, Lance’s mouth curling in satisfaction. “And this,” he pushed back the foreskin and rubbed over the dark tip, smiling wider at Shiro’s caught breath, “and this, too,” as his other hand closed around the base, squeezing, appreciating the girth and weight. “It’s nice.”

“Nice,” Shiro said, strained. “Uh-huh, okay.”

“I mean it!” Lance exclaimed. “You’re big. I wanna suck you first. Bet you taste awesome.”

Shiro made a face. “I think you’re going to be disappointed. I don’t know what you’re expecting, but it’s not –”

“No, no, I know,” Lance said confidently, shuffling around and nuzzling at Shiro’s still-hardening cock. “Humans taste like the ocean. Lovely.”

“What,” Shiro said, and Lance closed his lips around the tip, sucking happily. “Oh –”

There was a warmth at his back and he started. Keith. Keith, tracing a claw up his spine, fluffy ears brushing his neck. “He likes it,” Keith told him in a conspiratorial whisper. “He’ll like it even more if you fuck his mouth.”

Shiro’s hips jolted forward, hard, and Lance choked, eyes falling shut and throat constricting around the head. Lance was humming, his face flushed pink and pleased, and Shiro watched with an open mouth as his cock swelled between Lance’s stretched lips, filling out completely, balls heavy as Lance stroked them reverently. He thrust again, and again, and Lance took it, drooling everywhere and rubbing himself off against the cushions and Shiro couldn’t believe he was so close already, what the hell.

Then Keith’s fangs scraped across the back of his neck and Shiro’s hips bucked hard and Lance made a garbled sound and pulled off, panting. Keith’s chuckle was low and dark in his ear. “Didn’t take that long after all, did it? Look at you.”

Shiro looked. His cock stood up, dark and shiny with spit, huge and obscene against his stomach. Lance was staring at it with excitement. “Gonna let me ride you now, or what?” he asked.

“Yes,” Shiro gritted out.

“Cool,” Lance said, and straddled his hips without further preamble, his cock brushing against Shiro’s and then _curling around it_ , the bumps perfect friction that made Shiro grunt and push up into it. “Aww, you’re so sensitive,” Lance murmured. “You’re gonna love this, then.” And he grabbed Shiro’s cock and sank down on it.

Shiro groaned helplessly. Lance was tight, tightening consciously around him, fully sheathing his cock with his body, and it was so, so slick, and it was so, so not like fucking a guy or a girl or anything Shiro had ever experienced before. Lance was _strong_ , Shiro could feel the muscles moving around him, like a simulated stroke coupled by tight wet heat and then Lance started to actually move atop him, back arching and thighs flexing effortlessly.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Lance gasped, lashes fluttering and head tipping back. “Feels so good – fuck, Keith, it’s like he’s as thick as your knot all the way ‘round – nnngh!”

Shiro had moved up into Lance’s downwards grind, and Keith purred in apparent approval, hands snaking around Shiro’s waist, claws scratching ever-so-lightly over his skin. Shiro did his best to ignore it – Lance, he could handle. But Keith was a different ballgame, and truth be told, Shiro wasn’t too keen on having him so close. He was _Galra_ , after all, and though he was smaller than any of Zarkon’s soldiers and probably not a fair match for Shiro in a one-on-one fight, he made Shiro deeply uneasy.

Keith paused, exhaling over his neck. “You’re afraid of me,” he said, toneless, simply stating a fact. Or was he? He almost sounded…sad.

Lance stopped mid-grind, licking his lips and cocking his head at Shiro in confusion. “You’re afraid of _Keith_? ‘Cause of the – ah – Galra thing? Don’t be – he’s not – mmnnh – not one of the bad guys.”

“I’m not afraid,” Shiro muttered, feeling his arousal dim slightly. Lance felt it too, because he squirmed around, face falling.

“Hey, hey, no,” Lance said, bracing his hands on Shiro’s chest. “It was just gettin’ really good, just relax.”

Keith retreated from behind him. Shiro glanced back, and saw Keith huddled up against the cushions, and he definitely looked sad. His ears were even drooping. But when he caught Shiro looking he bared his teeth and snapped, “What? Focus on Lance; he’s the one you want.”

Shiro frowned, but turned back to Lance…who had taken ahold of his prosthetic hand and was fiddling with the fingers, eyes wide and wondering, and he said, “Where’s the on-switch to this thing?” and Shiro didn’t even think before yanking his hand out of Lance’s grasp and grabbing his neck. Lance made a strangled sound of shock, body going ramrod-straight and tensing around Shiro’s cock as Shiro’s fingers dug into his airway.

Keith was back in an instant, this time his claws were sharp and threatening at Shiro’s throat as Shiro’s hand tightened around Lance’s. “Let go of him or I’ll kill you, I swear I will,” Keith growled, voice shaking minutely. 

Lance gulped, eyes darting anxiously between Shiro and Keith and then back again, chest rising and falling unevenly. His cock was still hard against Shiro’s belly, and he was still soaking wet. “Please,” Lance whispered, wincing when Shiro’s metal fingers pushed harder. “I’m – I’m sorry –”

“It’s not a toy,” Shiro hissed. “It’s not – it’s _dangerous_ , you could’ve hurt yourself, you could’ve blown a damn hole in the ceiling!”

Keith’s claws eased their pressure against his throat. “He didn’t know,” Keith said. “He won’t touch it again.”

“I won’t,” Lance eked out, face slightly purple. “I won’t, promise –”

Shiro released him, both hands shaking. “I,” he started, and stopped. There was a silence between them. “I should go,” he said, about to lift Lance off of him, to retreat from the Black Room and its two strange, beautiful inhabitants, never to return to this place which he never should’ve visited at all.

But Lance stopped him with a gentle hand over Shiro’s human one. “Don’t go,” he said. “It’s not your fault.”

Shiro shook his head. “I could’ve seriously injured you, and I’m sorry, but you should find someone else –”

Keith’s claws withdrew. “We don’t want someone else,” he said.

“You hate this, don’t you?” Lance murmured, pointing carefully to his prosthetic. “You never wanted it. We understand that. But it’s a part of you now, Shiro – and I don’t think you would hurt us. Would you?”

Shiro swallowed. “I would never – I wouldn’t mean to, of course not, but it’s –”

“You can’t control it?” Keith asked, not demanding, just genuinely curious.

“I can,” Shiro muttered. “But…but it’s more complicated than that, it’s –”

“You’re scared of what it can do,” Keith finished. “Right? You’re scared of the potential it has, the potential you have, to hurt others.”

Shiro closed his eyes, nodded, short and reluctant. He really was pathetic, to be spilling out his feelings to these random strangers who just wanted a quick fuck. Or did they? He still got the feeling that there was something more to this. He just didn’t know what.

Lance moved off of him. Shiro opened his eyes. “I’d like to try something,” Lance said. “But only if you want to, too.”

“What?” Shiro asked warily.

“Put your fingers inside of me,” Lance suggested. “The metal ones.”

Shiro recoiled. “No! Why – that’s a terrible idea, I –”

Lance wilted. “Why is it a terrible idea?”

Shiro bit his lip. “You’re just – I mean – I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then you won’t,” Keith said with certainty.

“How can you trust me so much?” Shiro asked, half-pleading. “You just met me, why would you trust me with this?”

“Because I want to,” Lance said. “And we know what you’re capable of, but we also know that you’re a good man. You are a good man, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro said honestly. “I don’t know, anymore.”

“Then try,” Lance said. “Just try. I trust you.”

Shiro wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming, but with excruciating slowness, he shuffled forward, and after a long, long moment of hesitation, pushed two fingers into Lance. Lance smiled at him, encouraging, sighing as they pushed deeper, and…and he _liked_ it. Shiro looked at his hand, the one that never should’ve been his in the first place, the one that could cause so much pain and destruction…and saw it was giving Lance only pleasure.

Something sparked up his arm at the thought, and the purple lights on it whirred to life, and Keith drew in a sharp, panicky breath…but Lance moaned, loud and shocked, and Shiro’s hand was _vibrating_ , what in the world, Shiro didn’t know it could do that. Why could it do that?!

“Shi – ro, Shiro,” Lance hiccupped out a moan. “Y-yes, yes, _more_!”

Shiro dutifully added another finger and Lance cried out brokenly, blissfully, and squeezed tight around Shiro’s fingers as he came in a gush of sticky glowing blue across Shiro’s abs. His skin tingled wherever the substance touched him, and his cock rose to attention again as Lance’s softened and twitched weakly to curl around it.

“Did you mean to do that?” Keith demanded, voice rough and shocked.

“No,” Shiro admitted faintly.

“So you can’t control it?!”

“I can, I…wanted him to feel good, and then…the hand responded, it’s linked to my mind,” Shiro explained. “I just didn’t know it could do that.”

Keith was watching as the hand continued to vibrate, oversensitizing Lance as he squirmed and writhed, cock rubbing at Shiro’s and hardening slowly but surely. “You wanted him to feel good?” Keith repeated.

“Of course,” Shiro said. “What else?”

“Some wish to hurt him,” Keith said. “Or us.” He narrowed his eyes. “Fuck him again, and put your hand around his cock.”

Shiro complied. Lance sobbed gratefully, clutching at Shiro’s shoulders and licking at one of his nipples like a kitten, circling his hips and bearing down hard on Shiro’s cock, crying out as Shiro’s vibrating hand surrounded his wriggling cock and stroked over the length of it. His eyes were watering, bleary with pleasure, and Shiro could feel a rising sensation in his gut. Finally, finally, finally…

“Did – did you let them hurt you?” Shiro managed.

“Sometimes,” Keith said. “Sometimes there was no letting, only taking. But we always made them regret it afterwards. You’re not like them, are you, Shiro? Don’t answer that – you think you are, you think you’re even worse; but you’re wrong.”

“I’m gonna,” Shiro started, and came deep inside Lance, longer and harder than he could ever remember, and Lance’s body milked him with tight undulations, wringing his cock dry. Lance moaned like he’d just come again too, and Shiro realized with a start that he had – more of the glowing liquid seeped out alongside the cloudy white of Shiro’s cum and his cock was covered in it and it was tingling and…he was still hard. _Lance was keeping him hard._

“He’s not done with you yet,” Keith murmured. “Neither am I.”

“How – how long?” Shiro breathed.

“For however long you can bear it,” Lance replied, eyes bright and mischievous, body gleaming with sweat and cum as he began to move again. “Can you bear it, Shiro?”

Shiro nodded tightly, his cock hard to the point of near-pain, every undulation of Lance’s body soothing the ache while simultaneously worsening it, white fireworks going off in his head as Lance guided one of his metal fingers back to slide in alongside his cock. The angle was awkward and the sensation was unbelievably odd but Lance keened and rocked back onto Shiro’s cock and his vibrating finger and Shiro was going to come again, already, but it was just too much and not enough all at once –

A claw pressed lightly into the small of his back. Shiro froze. Keith’s breath was warm on his ear. “Do you want me to?” Keith asked.

Shiro gripped Lance’s hips hard enough to bruise. He didn’t think what he was feeling was fear anymore, exactly. Apprehension, perhaps. Or maybe anticipation.

Keith’s claw left his skin. “I’m sorry,” Keith said. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable –”

Shiro turned his head to look at the Galra. “Then what do you want?”

“To make you feel good,” Keith said, and Shiro had seen men lie before, more times than he could count, and could not see or sense a single speck of dishonesty in Keith right then.

Shiro blinked at him, and inclined his head. Keith’s yellow eyes widened. “You can, but it’s been awhile, and I’m not like Lance, I need –”

Keith kissed him. Shiro’s lips parted in surprise and Keith’s tongue pushed in against his own, soft and inquisitive, not hard or demanding in the slightest. In fact it was quite tender, Keith’s hand cupping his jaw as he licked into Shiro’s mouth, slow and purposeful. Shiro had always liked kissing, had always enjoyed the unique sensation of it; the buzz of muffled sounds against lips and the wet warmth of tongues and the occasional sharp, unexpected scrape of teeth. He liked the feeling of Keith’s claws sliding into his hair, too, running through the shorn-short sides and ruffling the longer hair on top.

Shiro moved his free hand to sink into Keith’s long, black-violet hair, and Keith purred into the kiss, leaning into his touch. Lance was still riding Shiro, but his movements were lazier, unhurried – he was watching them. His cock stroked at Shiro’s hip, betraying his interest, if his half-lidded eyes and hugely dilated pupils hadn’t already done so.

When the kiss broke, Shiro thought to look down at Keith’s cock. But. Uh. There was nothing there. “Um,” Shiro said, still craning his neck around to stare obviously at Keith’s crotch. “Where…?”

Keith’s lips quirked in amusement. “Here,” he said, and took Shiro’s human hand, guiding it down to the smooth lavender skin where a cock should have been. And…huh. There _was_ something there, a slight bulge under the surface, and when Shiro rubbed it slowly Keith hummed and a narrow slit appeared under Shiro’s hand, one that must have been there all along. “You can,” Keith mumbled, suddenly sheepish, “inside.”

Brows raised, Shiro’s fingers dipped inside, and Keith’s fangs dug into his lower lip as his questing fingers touched hot, hardening flesh, and it unfurled from the slit like a blooming flower – but it was definitely a cock, not a flower. It was a shade darker than the rest of Keith’s body, almost as thick as Shiro’s cock and longer, with a widely flared head and a wider, rounded base. But what really caught his attention (besides the slightly daunting size) were the literal half-inch long _barbs_ on either side of it.

Keith shook his head at Shiro’s skeptical expression. “They’re not sharp,” he said. “They –” He ducked his head. Shiro had never seen a Galra blush before. It was adorable. “They’re meant for stimulation,” he explained. “Just…just feel them. Doesn’t hurt.”

Shiro brushed a fingertip over them. They felt like rubber, but softer, and warmer, and Keith shuddered when Shiro took one between thumb and forefinger. “Stimulation for you?” he asked.

“Both,” Keith managed. “But mostly you.”

“Hmm,” Shiro said. “Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?”

Keith’s gaze darkened. “We will,” he said, and without warning reached around and sank two fingers into Lance alongside Shiro’s cock and his metal finger. Lance whined but easily allowed the intrusion, and when Keith’s fingers withdrew they were coated in slickness. Shiro snorted and Keith gave him a look.

“Waste not, huh?” he quipped, and Keith blinked at him before chuckling and shaking his head.

“If you’re able to make jokes, then Lance and I need to do a better job, here,” Keith retorted, and smoothed a hand over the muscular curve of Shiro’s ass. “Speaking of better…Lance, I think his ass might be even better than his cock.”

“Not possible,” Lance argued, lifting up and then down again, cum and alien glow juice getting absolutely everywhere. Shiro hoped the club wasn’t too attached to this couch. “His cock is fantastic.”

“Thanks,” Shiro said, and leaned forward to kiss Lance, because he figured it was only fair…plus, he’d already established that Lance had an amazing mouth. Lance responded enthusiastically, throwing his arms around Shiro’s neck to pull him closer. Their kiss was hardly tender – it was hot and messy yet achingly sweet, until Keith’s finger slid abruptly over Shiro’s hole and brought that warm tingling sensation with it.

“He’ll take care of you,” Lance mumbled, tipping Shiro’s face back up. “He’ll open you up, make you feel good, make you forget; kiss me again, and we’ll let you come.”

Helplessly, Shiro kissed Lance sloppy and open-mouthed, and then Keith’s finger pressed in, claws apparently sheathed. Shiro willed his body to relax, but Keith was already adding a second finger and he shifted in discomfort, dropping his head and trying to breathe. Keith stopped, kissing the nape of his neck and nuzzling at his shoulder blades.

“Do you want to move this to the bed?” Keith murmured.

Shiro nodded. “Less cramped, that way.”

“Mhm,” Keith agreed. “And I can fuck you properly there.”

Lance pouted. “But if we move, that means he has to stop fucking _me_.”

“Does it?” Shiro said, and stood up with his arms wrapped under Lance’s thighs and ass, holding him up on his cock and carefully making his way over to the bed. Lance gawked at him, and then at Keith over Shiro’s shoulder.

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” Keith remarked, amused, as he followed them to the bed. “He’s insatiable, but I’m sure he appreciates the effort.”

“It’s not that much effort,” Shiro said. “He’s pretty light, and he’s hanging onto me so tight I think I’d have to pry him off like a barnacle.”

“I dunno what a barnacle is, but damn right you will,” Lance said, nails digging into Shiro’s back. “You have an awesome cock _and_ it’s attached to a super-strong, super-hot dude with feelings; you’re really the complete package.”

“Your standards are so high,” Shiro deadpanned, sitting on the edge of the bed with Lance in his lap.

“You’d be surprised,” Lance replied seriously, flicking the forelock out of Shiro’s face. “You’re one in a million.”

“Hmph,” Shiro said. “If you say so.” _Bet you say that to all of them._

“I do,” Lance declared, and then moaned when Keith slid his hands up Lance’s spine and manhandled him down, until Shiro was braced over Lance on his hands and knees with Lance’s legs splayed wide and arms still hooked around his neck. “Mm, okay, take back what I said, this works, this so works, I am so down for a Shiro sandwich.”

“A what now?” Shiro said, and then Keith was behind him, spreading his cheeks apart, and sinking two fingers in again. His hips jerked, forwards into Lance, and Lance moaned appreciatively. “Oh. I – ah – I see.”

“Do you, now?” Keith murmured, lips brushing Shiro’s ear, and…Shiro frowned a little.

He’d always considered himself good at reading people, at seeing and hearing the nuances others missed. He’d had to be good when doing recon work. And he could’ve sworn that there was something _fond_ in Keith’s voice. Something beyond flirtation and arousal, something more like…admiration, adoration, a mix of the two. It was odd. Odd, but also really doing it for Shiro, especially when Keith started layering his neck and shoulders with kisses and light nips as he fingered him open.

It was messed up, but it was easier for him if he pretended that these two actually cared about him. They made it easy to pretend, he realized. Maybe it was because of the easy affection between the two of them, but…he really did feel as if he mattered to them, if only for tonight. It was a good feeling. Shiro had felt needed at the Garrison, and he’d liked that, he’d liked being useful – but this was more than useful. He was not only needed, he was _wanted_.

Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like that, or if he ever had.

“You okay?” Keith asked, claws tracing up his ribs. He had three fingers inside, Shiro was fairly certain. It was hard to tell, the sensations were starting to blur together, coalescing in a hot, vibrant bloom of pleasure in his core.

“Mhm,” Shiro said, hitching his hips absentmindedly, making Lance squirm and mewl for more under him. “You can, it’s alright.”

“It’s alright, or you’re alright?” Keith said, an edge to his voice, and he _was_ concerned, Shiro wasn’t making that up, couldn’t be. But why? They’d only just met, and Shiro knew for a fact that Galra weren’t the type to form emotional attachments quickly.

So how did Keith have one with him?

“Hey,” Lance mumbled, petting at Shiro’s face. “You good, or is this too much? I know we can be too much. If it’s too much, just say so, ‘kay? Don’t zone out on us, yeah? Talk to us, tell us what you want, Shiro.”

Lance had the same tone of voice as Keith. Soft. Worried. Caring. There was nothing fake or practiced about it – in fact, come to think of it, neither of them had acted that way so far. Shiro closed his eyes. Yes, it was too much; Lance and Keith were far too much. But there was no way in hell he was going to stop this now. Shiro was selfish and he would take whatever he could get.

“Fuck me,” Shiro said. “That’s what I want.”

Keith growled, bit his shoulder lightly, and then the blunt head of his cock nudged at Shiro’s hole and Lance kissed him as Keith pushed inside, Shiro’s breath stolen away by both of them.

Fucking, in Shiro’s experience, could be quite a bit like fighting. Always someone trying to gain the upper hand, always someone coming out of it a little worse for the wear, always a hot rush of adrenaline during and a strange, airy feeling of numbness afterwards. But this, this was nothing like fighting. Shiro didn’t know what this was like; he had nothing even vaguely similar to compare it to.

Keith stretched out along his back and rocked into him slow, too slow, letting him feel every single barb in high definition stroking so deep inside like dozens of tiny fingers; so slow Shiro wanted to snap at him, because maybe if Keith made it hurt Shiro wouldn’t feel like he was falling apart. Lance twisted under him, mouth slick and soft, his sounds so sweet, moving with Shiro, no rhythm to it, just what felt good for both of them.

Everything felt good. Shiro buried his face in the crook of Lance’s neck and focused on breathing as claws cradled his hips and lips covered his scars and Keith said, _Beautiful, beautiful, you are so beautiful, look at him, Lance, fuck._

And Lance said, _I’m looking, I’m looking, I know._

And Shiro said, _Please,_ because he could say nothing more.

Keith went faster and it still didn’t hurt and Shiro was still shattering and Lance was coming again and Shiro’s cock swelled desperately inside him and Keith’s cock swelled a lot more inside Shiro, stretching him wide enough for pain to spark sharply up his spine, barbs stiffening and pressing harder, and yeah, okay, that hurt. Not nearly enough to stop, though.

“Sorry, sorry,” Keith gasped, starting to back off, to pull out and away, and Shiro snarled in dissent, reaching around blindly to keep Keith where he was, nails digging into Keith’s thigh. Keith stared at him frantically, lips parted and fangs shining. “Shiro – I have to –”

“He wants you to,” Lance panted. “He can take it, look at him.”

“I can take it,” Shiro agreed, though he only vaguely knew what he was agreeing to, he didn’t care, he just wanted more, he wanted this to last longer, he didn’t want it to _end_.

“Fuck,” Keith whispered, and thrust forward with gritted teeth, and Shiro _keened_ , shoving deep into Lance as Keith shoved his knot into him and Lance whimpered and relaxed and Shiro came and Keith came, and Shiro was full of it. Keith collapsed against his back with a whine. Shiro slumped into the bed and Lance, exhausted, cock softening at last.

_Do not get attached to them. They have never served the same man twice._

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Keith shifted slightly atop him and the barbs shifted with his cock inside Shiro, making him groan and shudder at the added sensation. Keith shushed him with an apologetic sound and pet Shiro’s hair clumsily, soothingly. Lance pressed a wet kiss to his cheek and let Shiro half-crush him. He probably wasn’t being crushed at all – Alteans were strong. So were Galra. So was Shiro. But they were all weak together, now.

“Knot goes down in a few tics or so,” Lance mumbled, smiling sleepily up at him. “’Til then, you’re stuck snuggling with us.”

“What a hardship that is,” Shiro muttered.

Keith giggled and nuzzled into his back. “So sarcastic. ‘S cute.”

Lance poked Keith’s hip, rolling his eyes. “Keith gets all dopey after he knots. Enjoy it; he’ll be back to his apathetic broody self soon.”

“Will not,” Keith protested, still nosing at Shiro. “Mmm, smells so good. Better than I imagined, even.”

Shiro blinked, lifting his head and looking at Lance. Lance looked a bit uncomfortable. “You imagined this?” Shiro asked Keith warily.

Keith let out a mumbled affirmative. “When we were searching for candidates,” he yawned, “you were always my favorite.”

“Candidates?” Shiro repeated. “For…this?”

“Yes,” Lance said hastily, but Keith said, “Uh-uh.”

“Damn it, Keith,” Lance sighed.

Shiro looked at him in confusion. “What’s this about?”

“I want this one, Lance,” Keith murmured.

“I know,” Lance said. “So do I.”

“Wait,” Shiro said, “answer the question –”

“Mmm, it’s ‘bout our directive,” Keith slurred.

“…Directive?”

“For the past few years, we’ve been searching through a lot of databases, all over the galaxy, and sometimes even beyond that,” Lance said quietly, since Keith was distracted with licking Shiro’s neck. “Trying to find people – soldiers, mostly, or ex-soldiers, anyone with fighting experience, command skills, ability to work as part of a team, et cetera. For a while we were just doing recruitment the usual ways, but…” Lance frowned.

“Some people are real pieces of shit,” Keith mumbled. “And you don’t find out ‘til it’s too late.”

“Yeah, the usual recruitment process didn’t account for people’s morality, only their abilities,” Lance sighed. “So, we came up with our own recruitment process.”

“Having sex with candidates,” Shiro said in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Lance said.

“You’re a smart one,” Keith giggled. Shiro elbowed him lightly. Keith didn’t even seem to notice and went back to licking.

“So – so what are you recruiting for?” Shiro asked.

“Ever heard of The Blade of Marmora?” Lance asked. Shiro shook his head. “Well, good, because we’re top secret. Might have to kill you just for telling you.”

Shiro tensed at that. Keith paused his licking and Lance furrowed his brow. “That…was a joke, Shiro. We wouldn’t actually – d’you think we’d actually kill you?”

“Are you saying you’re capable of doing so, if you wanted?” Shiro demanded.

“Probably,” Keith yawned. “Two against one, not good odds.”

“Keith, you’re so not helping,” Lance snapped. “Tell Shiro we’re not actually threatening him.”

“Wouldn’t kill you,” Keith assured. “You’re too snuggly.”

“Um,” Shiro said. “Thanks. I think.” He licked his lips. “So…the Blade of Marmora, huh? What’s that?”

“A rebel organization against the Galra,” Lance told him. “Independent of the Galaxy Garrison – the Garrison is up to some sketchy shit, which I’m sure you know full well. We’d rather not associate with an organization that drafts members and nonconsensually attaches weaponry to them.”

“Neither would I,” Shiro said warily, “that’s why I left.”

“We figured,” Lance said. “Anyway…we’re recruiting for the organization as a whole, but not by doing…this.” He gestured to the Black Room and the various bodily fluids they’d left around it. “This is for a more important recruitment position – a more personal one.”

“What is it,” Shiro gritted out.

“We have a ship,” Keith said, sounding less out of it and more serious as he carefully rolled off of Shiro, causing a warm gush of liquid between his thighs that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. Keith rose from the bed and went to the attached bathroom, returning quickly with a few clean cloths. Shiro expected Keith to just hand one to him, but instead Keith started carefully cleaning up the mess he’d made, which was…considerate. Shiro looked at him over his shoulder. Keith’s face was tinged pink and he was avoiding Shiro’s gaze.

“A ship,” Shiro repeated. “It belongs to you two?”

“Oh, no,” Lance said, “we’re just crew members. It belongs to…” He hesitated. “It belongs to Princess Allura of Altea.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “But – the Altean royal family was assassinated, that’s –”

“It’s her,” Keith said firmly. “She survived the attack thanks to the Blade, and joined them to fight for their cause.”

“Which is?”

“To end Empire rule,” Keith said. “And hopefully avoid massive bloodshed – another thing the Garrison pays no mind to. No offense.”

“None taken,” Shiro said, curious now. He moved off of Lance even though Lance was still in barnacle-mode, and compromised by laying down on the bed between them. He was taken aback when Keith laid his head on his chest, but he wasn’t complaining. Keith closed his eyes and purred when Shiro pet his hair again. “So…you’re recruiting for your ship. Princess Allura’s ship.”

“Mhm,” Keith said. “But mostly, we’re recruiting for Team Voltron.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“Long story short, the team needs five members,” Lance said, “but we’ve only got four.”

“What happened to the fifth?” Shiro asked.

“The fifth member was Zarkon,” Keith said.

“Hold up,” Shiro exclaimed. “ _What?_ Why were you on a team with Zarkon?!”

“It’s not like – that was before our time,” Lance said. “See, Voltron is like…these giant robot lion ships? They all have different colors, I pilot Blue, Keith’s Red, Zarkon was the paladin of the Black Lion – and we need someone in the Black Lion now, or we can’t form Voltron, because we don’t have a head.”

“I think,” Shiro said faintly, “there’s a strong possibility that I’ve been drugged.”

“Nope,” Keith said, kneading his chest like a cat, “you just had really good sex. You’re welcome.”

“Giant robot lion ships,” Shiro said.

“Top secret,” Keith reminded him.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” Lance said.

“Heh,” Keith said. “You _would_ know that.”

Lance scowled. “Oh, hardy har, Keith. Can you maybe focus on making sure Shiro doesn’t actually lose his mind right now?”

“You want me to pilot a giant robot lion ship,” Shiro whispered. “What the fuck?”

“You’d be a good Black Paladin,” Keith said encouragingly. “I mean, you’ll have to meet with Allura first, but you can be charming, and not an annoying charming like Lance, so –”

“You take that back or I’m not letting you touch me for a week,” Lance grumbled.

“S’okay, Shiro will touch me,” Keith said. “Right, Shiro?”

“You want me to touch you and pilot a giant robot lion ship,” Shiro said. “Okay.”

“Wait, really?” Keith sat up.

“Why the fuck not, sure,” Shiro said, throwing up his hands and then covering his face. “Not like I got anything better to do.”

Keith deflated slightly. “Oh,” he said. “Well, if that’s the only reason you want to do this, then maybe it’s not the best…”

“It’s not,” Shiro said, “the only reason. I…” He sighed, and peeked at them through his fingers. “I didn’t like the killing part of being in the Garrison, but I did like helping people, freeing them from Galra rule, actually feeling like I was making the Universe a better place. So if that’s what you’re offering here, then yes, I’ll do it.”

Keith tilted his head hopefully. Lance grinned at him. “Yeah? You wanna be a hero with us?”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. “Hell yeah, I do.”

Keith smiled. Lance smiled. And Shiro felt like maybe, just maybe, his problems were solvable after all.


End file.
